Anastasia
by Capsicle Games
Summary: They said Jim blew his brains out but Sebastian doesn't believe it. Sherlock and John reunite and are now working to shut down the web once and for all. The final strand lies with Sebastian Moran... Maybe Johnlock and Mormor. Maybe. Loosely based off of "The Adventure of the Empty House".
1. Chapter 1

_There's a field of flowers and they smell like you _  
_and I go walking through them when I feel you near me_  
_you know I'd love to pick one for my lapel _  
_but you know there are too many insects watching_  
_I'm afraid they'd tell on me_

_and here the skies are neither day_  
_nor night, in this place_  
_where I close my eyes_  
_its like my skin would try so hard to hold it back_  
_there's an explosion it comes raining down _  
_there's a smile you smiled at me_  
_Anastasia your disappearance is the thorn in my side_  
_Anastasia you know your absence is the thorn in my side_

_-Anastasia by Voltaire_

* * *

Three years.

Three years had spun by like a vortex, sucking all events as they happened and spurning together within a blink. Sebastian's life felt as if it were just a tornado now, simply existing to destroy, leaving charred memories in it's path. He was nothing now. He felt empty, no goal, no more plans for living. He felt absolutely _bored_.

It stung to be bored. His boss's organization had officially fallen, collapsed without a master to keep the strings together. Though he had jumped to trying to preserve as much as he could following Moriarty's death, he couldn't quite manage to rein anyone in. He was a sniper; not the best at communicating or holding too many conversations to keep people in. No, he was no snake in conversation like Jim was, and everyone started leaving no matter how much he tried to convince them to stay. Just in case...he came back.

He sounded so foolish trying to convince people to not jump the boat. Their reasons for running made a lot more sense than staying. The Yard was cracking down, tracking down everyone involved in Moriarty's web and arresting them. They were finding more and more of his clients as the day went by, and were just picking up speed.

It was actually a miracle that Sebastian hadn't been found yet. But then again, he was always careful in his tracks and since he was Jim's right hand man, he got extra coverage. But he wasn't quite invincible and he expected them to knock on his door any day.

* * *

_I kept your room just as you left it  
There's not a toy out of place  
Just in case the fates are kind and you come back someday  
I don't want to live without my little Anastasia  
Anastasia your disappearance is the thorn in my side  
Anastasia you know your absence is the thorn in my side_

* * *

He kept their flat just the way it was on the day Jim died. Nothing but the kitchen had a thing out of place. Of course Sebastian had to go out occasionally to get food. But other than restocking the kitchen, dragging his mattress into the middle of the kitchen tile, and dusting around the place, not much was disturbed. He was in painful denial, but convinced himself one day Jim would come back one day. The man was his roommate, his boss, what he could consider to be his only "friend" or close to it. He just didn't believe Jim would go out the world so soon.

Now Seb was neatly polishing his guns on top of the kitchen table. The flat was pretty spacious, containing three big bedrooms, only one that used to be regularly used (Seb's). There were two bathrooms, both connected to a narrow hallway, and a nice open living room. The living room was well laid out with a couple of couches, a telly, bookshelves clinging to the walls, and a neat desk with a couple of laptops. Most of their equipment was kept in the bedrooms, and Sebastian had taken the liberty to move a couple of his guns to a corner in the kitchen.

The sniper hunched over his gun, balancing it with a steady elbow. He ran the cloth along the base, shining the metal. He didn't know why he bothered polishing it but at the same time, he did. He had no current work, nothing to do besides watch telly and work out. But at the same time, he was the type of person to keep up habits. Especially if he had a gut feeling he'd need them.

And just then, creating the peak of his day, there was a knock on the door. Sebastian felt his heart plunge. He immediately grabbed the best handgun he had on him and tucked into his jacket.

* * *

**A/N: "What is this? What are you doing?" you're probably asking if you follow me for my other story. I'm sorry, got writer's block again, so I decided to cure it with this piece here. Extremely loosely based on TAoTEH. This story will be pretty short, I plan on it being maybe twelve chapters, sorry! This will also be updated in my own time. Not sure if I'm going to have any ships going on here. I might if anyone wants me to.**

**I'm not English or Irish or Scottish, so I apologize for anything that sounds too American.**

**I'll update my other stuff soon, so don't you worry.**

**Feel free to review! I hope my version of Moran isn't too weird...**


	2. Chapter 2

"Jus' here to remind you bout' this month's rent, don't getyer' self werked' up, now." their landlord said, giving Sebastian a cautious smile. The man blinked from the other side of the cracked open door before nodding to her and re-closing it to retrieve the payment from the kitchen. He returned quickly, eager on getting her away. He didn't want to engage in a conversation that might lead to her inviting herself in.

"Here you go. On time. Should be everything." he mumbled, handing her the bill stuffed in an envelope, himself halfway through the entrance. The landlady was short and a little stout, a long mane of silver and ginger hair always pulled into a bun. She quickly examined the contents of the envelope, thin fingers flicking through it, dark eyes taking in every detail. Finally, after a few moments of silently calculating, she nodded and smiled. Everything was fine.

"Thank yew' for bein' punctual. I'm sorry for havin' to ask you like this. It's jus' the last few months you...forgot." she swallowed. At first she wasn't confident in approaching the man - at least not alone. About six foot two and definitely athletic, Moran was a sandy blonde with straggly stubble who was not to be messed with. From his serious calculating gray gaze to his deep voice, he easily scared the poor woman the first time they met. Of course over time she got over her fear of him, thanks to Jim who she absolutely adored (she wasn't aware of his criminal status), but she still wanted to play it cool with him. He was on her list of things not to make angry. "Inspection's in a week. Get ready."

"Oh, uhm, okay. Thanks Mrs. Allen. Good." Seb said, fumbling as usual. He was _not_ a good talker.

"How's Jimmy? Haven't seen him in a while," she continued on. "A long time, actually..."

"Oh." Jim was her favorite. He would always act sweet and innocent around her, usually to swindle information when he needed it. She of course thought he was genuinely a good man with an honest job. She absolutely loved seeing him around and would always comment on his weight. Seb couldn't bring himself to telling her he "died"...he was sure he'd be back anyway. It was hilarious in a sad way. "He's..uhm, gone. Still. But, he's doing well. Uni, y'know? Foreign exchange and stuff."

"Strange a man of his age would go back to uni," she remarked, "but that's good. He's a good man."

_Right..._

"Yes. Well, I better get going. I have to finish..."

"Fine! Bye now!"

He waved her off before slumping back into the flat with a sigh. He was lucky at how smoothly that went. She could have demanded an inspection at that moment. And imagine her face when she saw all his guns on the counter...

* * *

Sebastian loved living on Baker Street, but at the same time, loathed it.

One reason, the immense amount of cabs that seemed to pull up across the street every day. It clogged up the traffic it seemed, cause' he couldn't catch a cab to go to the store. The second reason, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson lived across the street. They could have found him and Jim by now. And every time Seb wanted to leave, he had to make sure he didn't run into the duo.

They hadn't always lived across from Holmes. Jim thought it'd be so _funny, ironic, and completely unexpected_ if they rented out the flat across the street. He laughed when they partially moved in five years ago. Of course, it wasn't the only residence they occupied in London. Jim owned a couple of flats and rented out others, all spread out throughout the city. Just in case. He made the one on Baker Street the primary one for dramatic purposes. "One day," he had said and even added the cliche manic laughter for effect. "The great Sherlock Holmes will look up with a gun pointed to the back of his head and realize...his other side and arch nemesis lived near him the whole time. Two sides of the same coin. One street."

What. A. Drama. _Queen_.

Sebastian inwardly rolled his eyes just thinking about it. But he couldn't bring himself to move just yet. He'd have to debate it over with Jim once he returned.

He shifted through the mail he had dumped onto the table, his guns were cleaned and put up hours ago. He opened the bills, set them aside to pay, and threw out junk mail. It would have been hard to keep up with all the flats, guns, chemical, electrical, and water expenses he had to pay without one of Jim's bank accounts. Fortunately Jim trusted him with everything involving finance (it was too boring for him) so Moran had his hands on all the money he ever needed.

He used his laptop to pay off the majority of the bills, sealed the ones that required mailing into envelopes, and got up to leave. He took the envelopes and left the flat leisurely. He'd run over to the post office to mail everything off.

He said a quick "bye" to Mrs. Allen before walking off to the sidewalk and signaling for a cab. After waiting for ten minutes, he gave up and decided he'd just walk there. It was around noon so he had plenty of time to arrive. He began his careful trek towards the offices, making sure to stay blended in the crowd. Just in case Sherlock Holmes appeared and deduced from a strand of his hair that he was Moriarty's top sniper and right hand man.

He made it around the corner before he finally relaxed. He let people pass by him before him before walking again, this time pulled into his own thoughts. It had been three years. _Three years_ since Jim left. Sherlock had recently returned, so why not Jim? Why would he blow his brains out just because he was bored?

_Cause' he's a psychopath and his greatest obsession had failed him._

But even then, why would he disappear without even saying _goodbye_? Moran was the closest thing to a friend he had. Did that even matter?

Maybe it was time for him to move on afterall. Though he could easily take all of Jim's leftover money and live like a king with it, it didn't quite fit him. He'd be bored himself and have nothing to do. He thought about finding a job elsewhere. Maybe one of the gangs in the city could employ him. He'd spend all his nights on stakeout. Or maybe it was smarter for him to move to another country, a place where he had absolutely no traces of his connection to Jim and no one would recognize-

_Smack!_

Someone ran straight into him, knocking him over more in surprise than anything else. Sebastian instantly broke his fall, rolling around to face away from the bloke who caused his envelopes to fly around. He grabbed the majority of them, people sidestepping his outstretched hands. Finally shuffling them together he faced the person who decided to ram head first into him. His blood ran cold as he recognized John Watson...


End file.
